Hope is A Dandelion
by an-iratze-over-my-heart
Summary: Peeta couldn't handle that. If it hurt him enough to see her after her nightmares, he couldn't bear the thought of the amount of pain he'd go through if he lost her. If she never spoke to him again.


**Set after the Games and revolution.**

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"Katniss,"

The voice makes the nineteen year old cringe. She knows that voice, that unmistakable voice of the boy with the bread. She raises her grey eyes, tired, and looks up at the warm, delicate blue ones.

"Yes, Peeta?" she asks quietly, and flickers her gaze back into the horizon, unable to meet his eyes any longer. It hurt too much. It brought back so many memories—and not good ones.

She heard the rustle of his clothes as he sat next to her, and his shoulder brushed against hers, making that inexplicable rush of warmth fill her, as it did so long ago. It gets her every time.

Their feet dangle from the window's edge they sat on, in a room in Katniss's house in the Victor's Village. Oh how Katniss wanted to move, away from this treacherous house, it brought back things she wanted to keep stored back in her brain, so they never haunt her again. But no, Peeta persisted, claiming that's what Prim would want.

Being the extremely persuasive boy that he is, eventually Katniss agreed.

By now though, Peeta regrets it. Every night Katniss wakes with blood curling screams, panting, crying, and clutching at her sheets. She has grown distant, quiet, something that unsettled Peeta very much. He was losing the girl on fire. She was slipping away. And every time Peeta tried to talk to her, coax her to say what was going on her mind, to remind her she's not alone, she would deny feeling anything, claiming she was fine. But Peeta knew better than that.

He was afraid that she would turn out like her mother, forever mute, unable to move—to live. Peeta couldn't handle that. If it hurt him enough to see her after her nightmares, he couldn't bear the thought of the amount of pain he'd go through if he lost her. If she never spoke to him again.

"Katniss," he tries again, his voice trembling. "Katniss, talk to me. You can't just store those feelings in you; you have to let it out."

Those grey eyes lock with the blue eyes again. The grey ones seem clouded, guarded, even. The blue ones look concerned, wary, with a twinge of frustration.

"I'm okay," she croaks, turning to look back at the setting sun. Peeta clenches his teeth. "Katniss," he says firmly now. "Katniss, talk to me."

The girl takes a deep breath, her long dark braid clinging to her back. She wore simple pants, a dark brown long sleeved blouse, and her hunting boots. "I'm fine, Pe—"

"No, you're not," Peeta snaps, interrupting her. "You're refusing to talk to me, and you roam around the house doing nothing, sitting around _moping_, and I've tried to connect with you, to make you feel better, but you _just don't try_."

The last phrase comes out choked, and Katniss looks up to find tears welled up in those blue eyes, the jaw clenched tight, and his eyes refusing to look at her. Katniss flinches, a tight feeling on her gut rising up, making her feel nauseous.

"Peeta," her voice is a whisper, almost lost in the wind. She reaches out to touch his arm, and he withers at her touch, moving his arm out of her reach. A knot forms at Katniss's throat, choking her breath. Without a single word, Peeta rises, and climbs back into the room, starting for the door.

Katniss climbs back in too, tears spilling down her cheeks, her throat burning now. "What do you want me to say?" she screams behind him suddenly. Peeta stops in mid-step. He turns around slowly.

"What do you want me to say?" Katniss echoes, her voice hollow. "What do you want me to say, that being in this house alone is driving me crazy? That I can't go up to my room without hearing—" she chokes on the last word—"_his _voice? That the smell of that _damn _rose still runs through this house, making me want to scream?"

Tears are flowing nonstop now, down her cheeks, her grey eyes rimmed red. Her cheeks are flushed, and her fists are clenched, her nails digging into her palms.

Peeta stays quiet.

"I can't live here, Peeta, I still hear Prim's laugh,"—she grinds her teeth after this, until they ache— "I still hear Cinna pulling up the zipper on my wedding dress…" by now her voice is barely audible, as she crumples to the floor, sobbing.

Peeta is beside her in seconds, his arms circling her figure, pulling her closer to him. She sobs into his chest, and she hears the soft crying of Peeta too.

"You think it's easier for me?" he whispers into her hair. His voice is hoarse. "My family is _gone_, Katniss, they can never come back. At least you have your mother, and damn it, even if she didn't treat me the best, I miss my mother, and I'd give anything to bring her back."

Peeta continues. "You're my only family now, Katniss, and I'm even losing you, too. And I don't know what to do."

He chokes on the last words, and Katniss looks up. "I'm sorry," she breathes, her eyes puffy and red. "I'm sorry—"

Peeta breathes in, and exhales deeply. "No, I'm sorry for not listening to you. I should have. I pushed you to live in this house and I shouldn't have had. We can go live somewhere else. My place?"

The boy answers himself with a shake of his head. "No," he takes it back. "That brings a lot of memories too."

Katniss looks up. "Just anywhere away from the Victor's Village. This place—it haunts me by reminding me of the Games."

"Okay. But for today, can we spend the night here?" the boy replies, as they stand up.

Katniss nods slightly.

They stand there, holding each other for a while.

Katniss bites her lip softly, as she fights to retain tears. He's right; they're the only thing they have left. She's glad, though, that it's him. He is the only reason she hangs on, every day.

So with her tip-toes, she lifts up to capture Peeta's lips with hers. Tears, from both, fall freely down their cheeks, and Katniss tastes salt as she kisses Peeta. It's a sad, loving kiss, but it re-assures both of them they will be alright—together.

It reminds Katniss that her dandelion in the spring will always be with her—to give her hope.

-:-

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**Whoo! First story! **

**So this has sat in my computer for a while now, so I decided to upload it here. **

**It's pretty short, shorter than I thought it would be, but I think it's alright. ^.^**

**Thanks for reading, and please review! **

**Also, visit my Tumblr, an-iratze-over-my-heart!**


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